


Are You There, God? It's Me, Obi-Wan

by Creme_Fraiche



Series: Obikin in Catholic School [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Blowjobs, Catholic Guilt, Catholic School, Drunken Shenanigans, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fantasizing, Homophobic Language, Horny Teenagers, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Masturbation, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Obi-Wan Kenobi is a greedy bottom, Obsessive Behavior, Pastor Qui-Gon Jinn, Religion, Sad with a Happy Ending, Suicidal Thoughts, Teenage Rebellion, Validation, impure thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2020-11-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:54:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27426766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Creme_Fraiche/pseuds/Creme_Fraiche
Summary: "Obi-Wan’s world view changed when he began to have… Feelings. Strange feelings. He had once been able to wander the school halls of his own free volition, navigating through his life with a clear path and goal, but now he would look at his classmates, his male classmates, and he would feel a stirring in his gut. He had asked God why? He had prayed at his bedside tuesday through wednesday, pleading to understand these new emotions, but nothing ever came."Life is random and unfair. One day you're a straight A student and average God-fearing Catholic, the next you're obsessed with another male student who doesn't even know you exist.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker, Qui-Gon Jinn & Obi-Wan Kenobi
Series: Obikin in Catholic School [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2022947
Comments: 16
Kudos: 109





	Are You There, God? It's Me, Obi-Wan

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is two parts a general expression of romantic storytelling, two parts an exploration into my own life experience with the church and coming out. 
> 
> Kudos, comments and bookmarks are greatly appreciated, please read and enjoy!

Obi-Wan was a prize student. He’d never rebelled, he’d never disobeyed an order from neither his parents or his teachers, he was a golden child. He was the son of a prominent member of the church, his Father had served as a High Priest for many years. 

His world was perfectly organised, and everything made sense, or at least it  _ did _ .

Obi-Wan’s world view changed when he began to have… Feelings.  _ Strange  _ feelings. He had once been able to wander the school halls of his own free volition, navigating through his life with a clear path and goal, but now he would look at his classmates, his  _ male  _ classmates, and he would feel a stirring in his gut. He had asked God  _ why _ ? He had prayed at his bedside tuesday through wednesday, pleading to understand these new emotions, but nothing ever came. 

He would never admit it, but the feelings had developed. He would lay awake at night, his head brimming with impure thoughts of tight, athletic bodies, pressed against each other in the heat of night. He’d managed for so long to just see the bodies, their chiselled physiques a worthwhile substance for his desire, until he finally saw a head. A  _ face _ lingered in his mind.

Anakin Skywalker. His tousled hair, clinging scantily to his forehead, his eyes heavy and glazed with a heated longing, his broad, muscular arms outstretched to take Obi-Wan into his chest, to hold him close.

The truth of it was, Anakin was a prodigal student, on track to be a High Priest, and he probably didn’t even know that Obi-Wan existed. When he gave Padmé Amidala his class ring last semester, Obi-Wan had been struck with a crushing resentment, he’d wanted to cut her finger off and wear the ring himself, and he didn’t know why. 

He felt an inexplicable desire to be close to Anakin. 

It churned his stomach, a bubbling anxiety that made Obi-Wan’s back arch. He didn’t feel  _ right _ . 

_ This wasn’t right _ . He wasn’t a  _ fag _ . 

He’d always been led to understand that these kinds of feelings were forbidden. They were to be saved until marriage, marriage between man and his wife.

But where was the wife in Obi-Wan’s desires? Why didn’t he see his female classmates and lurch with want? 

He was scared.  _ What was wrong with him _ ? 

As time progressed, he became unable to cloud his thoughts, his heart would pulse rhythmically as he stood in the locker room, huddling himself into a corner as he quickly changed into gym clothes, almost holding his breath as he narrowed his line of sight as not to spy  _ them _ , but the scent, the  _ musk  _ of adolescence was intoxicating. It flooded his senses, the adrenaline coursed through his veins, his blood pumping faster until,

“Hey, Kenobi’s got a hard-on!”

He’d struggled to live that one down, although he managed to pass it off as a nervous erection, he knew they looked at him differently. The boys would avoid him in the halls, murmurs of gossip caught only in fleeting moments as he passed by, followed by the haunting echo of mocking laughter. 

Obi-Wan eventually began avoiding social contact all together, skipping lunches, keeping his head down in class, but one thing always remained. That familiar face, lurking on the dark side of his eyelids. A dry smirk played on his lips, a fantasy playing out every time he closed his eyes.

_ Touch me, Anakin, touch me like that… _

He couldn’t stop himself. He knew that the Lord frowned on him, that God would punish him for his impurity, but he couldn’t help it. He began to doodle, instead of listening in class. He would scribble, his once tidy and organised notes devolving into coarse ramblings, the occasional lewd picture thrown into the margin of his notebook. 

As his grades began to tank, Obi-Wan’s parents began to take notice of his behavioural differences. Part of him wondered if they’d ever noticed him before he became a ‘troubled teen’. 

“We just want you to succeed, Ben,” They would reiterate, “We want the best for you.”

_ Bullshit _ , Obi-Wan thought,  _ total bullshit _ . 

They wanted what all parents wanted. They wanted their good little Catholic child to become a good Catholic adult. God fearing, law abiding, and totally autonomous. The church wasn’t fond of free-thinkers, as his teachings had proven. 

As he lay in his bed at night, his hands beginning to explore the parts of his body he’d never felt before, the parts he wasn’t allowed to touch, his anxieties melted away. He didn’t feel  _ alone  _ in his fantasy world. When he walked out in the world, he felt isolated, a bitter darkness that trembled from inside his very soul, but in those moments where ecstasy seeped into his every sinew, his heart soared. 

And he felt him, he felt  _ Anakin _ . 

“Please, Ben,” His Mother said to him one Sunday morning before church, “Talk to Pastor Jinn, he’s a good man. He can offer guidance.”

Pastor Qui-Gon Jinn oversaw their local church, he was a known name in the community and a respected member of the township. He had little family of his own, having arrived in the hamlet a year ago after the previous Pastor had passed onto the next life. The changeover had been almost immediate, Qui-Gon’s arrival taking several of the churchgoers by complete surprise, but he was welcomed into the community soon enough.

Obi-Wan’s parents had played a part in Qui-Gon’s arrival to the church, the Pastor and Obi-Wan’s Father having a prior friendship years before. Qui-Gon had been removed from his previous placement, following a heated situation where he had attempted to introduce kids to contraception and the conversation of safe sex, and was cast aside as a social pariah by the parents of the community.

Obi-Wan’s Father, being a man of the church himself, offered Qui-Gon a second chance to repent for his ‘mistakes’. He welcomed his former friend into their quiet town prior to the previous Pastor’s passing, so that when he inevitably did, Qui-Gon could fill the position instantly. 

Obi-Wan didn’t understand how a Pastor would help him, but his parents didn’t know the extent of his situation, nor did he know the background of Qui-Gon’s situation. He would humour them, and talk to Qui-Gon, fabricating a false story about stresses at school and his following of the Lord, struggling to find the work-faith balance. 

“I may be a Pastor, Obi-Wan, but I’ve seen the world,” Qui-Gon spoke calmly as he studied the gradual change on his young ward’s expression, “If you cannot be honest with me, we may have a larger problem than I realised.”   
  
_ Shit _ . 

His guard down, Obi-Wan stumbled over his words, Qui-Gon silencing him and asking him to return when he was ready to be open. 

_ The Lord smiles on honest men, Obi-Wan. Remember that. _

He went home following their talk in a turbulent spiral, his fingers twitching at his sides as he walked. Anxiety tore at the core of his being, ripping into him as his chest tightened, a throbbing beginning to amalgamate in his temples. 

He caught himself on a wall, resting his back against it as he attempted to catch his breath, urging his lungs to expand and let the air in, to allow the oxygen to release into his system, into his brain. 

_ What does he know. He’s a stupid Pastor. _

Obi-Wan lay in bed that night, and conjured the images of Anakin in his head, the object of his desires, gallant and tall, prestigious amongst the lackeys at school. A smile unfolded on his lips, and he drifted into his fantasies, entering Anakin, taking him. 

_ Owning him _ . 

As time had continued to pass, Obi-Wan’s fears had morphed into a twisted sense of rebellion, rising to the surface in his safe space, his onanism acting as a metaphorical middle finger to the higher power, the God he’d feared for so long. 

_ Watch this one, God. This faggots gonna bust a nut in Jesus’ name.  _

But when the dizzy high faded, and Obi-Wan sank back into his mattress, the fear came back with a vengeance. His body became riddled with a burning guilt, and as the fuzzy images of Anakin melted away in his mind, he felt alone. 

He was alone. 

He wiped himself clean, and his eyes drifted across his bedroom, the once perfectly tidy space of study and prayer had crumbled into a mess, disheveled and disorganised, he felt the space around him shrinking as he curled his knees closer to his stomach, rolling onto his side and staring into the darkness. 

  * • •



“So are you going to tell me the truth?” Qui-Gon sat back in his chair tentatively, watching Obi-Wan shift uncomfortably in the seat across from him.

They’d been in the room for almost fifteen minutes, but young Obi-Wan hadn’t spoken a word to the Pastor since he’d sat down. He could feel the words tingling in his throat, a thick, fuzzy feeling coating his tongue, his eyelids heavy.

He hadn’t been sleeping properly. He hadn’t been eating properly. He hadn’t been praying properly.

Qui-Gon adjusted his weight as he sat forward, his chair creaking into the shallow emptiness of the room, his focus fixed on the young man before him,

“Obi-Wan, your parents are worried about you, and frankly I can understand why,” He sighed heavily, his hands clasped and resting on the hardwood desk, “You’ve changed a lot in the past few months.”

Obi-Wan’s stomach lurched. Had it really been months? He’d never noticed how quickly the days had become weeks, how much time he’d lost to his inner conflict. He’d been consumed by his anxiety, and he hadn’t even realised. 

“I can’t help if you don’t talk to me, Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon continued, catching Obi-Wan’s eyeline for a split second, an icy blue that cut through him suddenly, as he felt a surging memory strike through his mind. He knew that look. He’d seen it before.

“Obi-Wan,” He was suddenly softer now, adjusting his approach, “Are you having… Worries? About relationships?”

The younger man felt his back straighten, as if someone had stuck a clothesline pole up his spine, suddenly alert and wide eyed,

“No,” He retorted sharply, before his shoulders slumped slightly, “...Kind of.” He was quick enough to admit, knowing that he couldn’t lie to Qui-Gon. The older man ran his tongue across his teeth, the situation quickly all too familiar,

“And, would you say, that the Lord wouldn’t approve of the thoughts you’ve had?” He asked slowly, careful to observe Obi-Wan’s reaction and his body language, ever cautious in his approach to not upset the young man, “About sex?”

The word lingered in the air between them, and Obi-Wan could feel his throat closing up, he felt sick. 

_ Sex _ . It was the biggest taboo, it was a  _ sin _ . 

“It’s okay to think about sex, Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon attempted to reassure, but Obi-Wan felt his fight or flight going haywire, he grabbed his bag from the floor and in a sweeping motion, he made a break for the door, without another word. 

He could hear the Pastor calling out to him as he left the church, beginning to run. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t do  _ this _ . 

He didn’t want to do it. 

  * • •



_ “You’re not their friend, Qui-Gon,” The High Priest warned, pacing the office anxiously, his hands firm behind his back, “What were you thinking?!” _ _  
  
_

_ “I was trying to help,” Qui-Gon attempted to reason, standing tall and strong, a harsh contrast to the High Priest’s jittering and nerves, “Those kids came to me, they asked the questions, I did what I thought was right-” _ _  
_ _  
_ _ “What you thought,” The High Priest interjected, turning sharply to point at Qui-Gon with his bony finger, his eyes narrowed, “You thought, Qui-Gon, but you didn’t talk to us first. You should have consulted us, now the parents are boycotting the church until you resign.” _ _  
_ _  
_ _ Qui-Gon swallowed his nerves, remaining stoic, _

_ “What would you have done?”  _

_ “What?” _ _  
_ _  
_ _ “If those kids came to you,” Qui-Gon spoke lowly, challenging the High Priest, “What would you have done?” _

_ A tense silence passed between them. A silence that dared them to break it, both men unflinching and refusing to back down. _

_ “What would you have-” _ _  
_ _  
_ _ “I don’t know, Qui-Gon,” The High Priest interrupted him again, cutting his words short to silence him, “I don’t know what I would have done, but I know what I’m going to do now. Pack your things.” _

  * • • 



Qui-Gon found himself in a parallel, a reflection of where he’d been a year ago, he was experiencing a deeper paternal instinct, a desire to protect Obi-Wan from the darkness that surrounded him.

He wasn’t his friend, but wasn’t it his job to help people? Isn’t that what God wanted? Wasn’t that his  _ plan _ ? 

If Obi-Wan was suffering from impure thoughts, he was no doubt going to act on them. He needed to understand how to act  _ safely _ . He was doing the right thing by trying to help… Wasn’t he? 

If Qui-Gon only knew the depth of Obi-Wan’s steadily deteriorating mental state. A fear of God had bloomed into a deep resentment, not only of God himself but now of  _ Anakin _ . He hated Anakin. He detested his perfect hair, his sculpted features, he couldn’t understand why it all had to happen to  _ him _ .

His fantasies had untangled from hot and heavy lovemaking and strewn bedsheets, to sexual explorations, and one night Obi-Wan fantasised about denying Anakin’s orgasm, about taking him to the brink and never letting him finish, the idea of Anakin begging made Obi-Wan’s toes curl, and in the moment of climax, he’d never felt more  _ alive _ . 

His excitement burned bright and fast, and just as soon as he’d envision the sexy Prodigal Son, Anakin Skywalker, weak at his knees, pleading mercy at Obi-Wan’s hand, he realised what he was. 

He didn’t eat the following day. He didn’t deserve to eat. He was disgusted in himself. Why did he feel this insatiable hunger for this guy who didn’t even know who he was? And why did it feel so  _ good _ ? He hated it, he hated that he didn’t understand. He was confused, lost, and ever fearful of God’s might. He knew what God did to people like… Like  _ him _ . He struck them down. 

The meetings between Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon proceeded once more following a lengthy talk with his parents, who  _ insisted _ that Obi-Wan talk to the Pastor, still holding onto the shred of hope that he could turn their son away from his path to darkness. Earth shall be fair, and all her people one. 

But Obi-Wan felt himself stepping closer to the ledge. He stood on the brink of no return, ready to go down to the river, and drown himself in it. 

“I can’t do these meetings anymore, Pastor Jinn.” Obi-Wan stood in the doorway of Qui-Gon’s office, the older gentleman frowning with a furrowed brow. He stood, extending a hand,

“Obi-Wan, please come in,” He tried, but Obi-Wan planted his feet at the door, his hands clenched tightly into balled fists at his sides, shaking his head,

“I can’t, I’m sorry, I know it’s a disappointment, but I…” He fought the atom bomb of emotions in his core, as it ate away into him, digging a hollow pit of nothingness in his abdomen, and it  _ hurt _ . 

Qui-Gon swallowed the lump in his throat, keeping his eyes trained on Obi-Wan, sensing a great danger in his heart,

“Sit, please,” He assured, but the younger male was determined, beginning to turn away to escape,

“I can’t, I can’t,” He repeated frantically, inches from leaving, panic consuming his body. Qui-Gon took a deep breath, sure that no matter what, he would maintain a level head. The Lord works in mysterious ways, and Obi-Wan needed his help,

“I can’t either,” He called to him, his calming chamomile voice urging Obi-Wan to turn back, “But we have to do this. Please, sit down, Obi-Wan.”

A heavy silence hung in the air, both men held there in a battle of wills, Obi-Wan’s crumbling facade making way for a trembling that worked from his fingertips to his neck, his whole spine curving in an exorcistic lurch. He turned, flattening his shoulders to will the tension down into his legs, where at least he could control it, and he sat beside Qui-Gon.

_ Talk in your own time, Obi-Wan.  _

The words came pouring out, and as the tears broke free, cascading down his cheeks, collecting on his chin to drip carelessly on his tightly wound fists that perched in his lap, Obi-Wan felt the weight crushing him, the pressure building behind his eyes and in his ears was fit to burst,

“I can’t do it anymore, Qui-Gon,” Obi-Wan sobbed, half choking on his own words as they tumbled out of his mouth, “I don’t want to do it. I don’t want to do  _ this _ , I don’t want to  _ be here _ .” 

Qui-Gon watched as Obi-Wan crumbled before him, listening to him, allowing him the time to breathe between sentences.

All the things he wished someone had done for him when he was young.

“Things made sense,” Obi-Wan continued, staring vehemently into his lap, “But they don’t anymore, and I can’t take it, I hate what I am and who I’ve become,” He felt Qui-Gon’s eyes on him, “I just feel so alone.”

“You’re not alone,” Qui-Gon lowered his hand tenderly onto Obi-Wan’s shoulder, the young man recoiling from the touch, but he persevered, calm and collected in his tone, “Not while I’m here. It’s okay to be scared,” He assured, watching as Obi-Wan began to relax slowly, “Things aren’t easy, but you’re not alone. Forget God,” He resisted his urge to smile as Obi-Wan turned to him suddenly, eyes wide from his statement, but he couldn’t help it, and he laughed softly, “I’m here, and you’re here, and you’re who you are.”

“You…” Obi-Wan’s voice faded as he looked into Qui-Gon’s eyes, who gently smiled and nodded his head,    
  
“I may be a Pastor,” He echoed his sentiment from their first meeting, and squeezed the boy’s shoulder, “...Being yourself is hard, but who you are is beautiful. You’re created in His image,” He rose to his feet, and offered a hand to Obi-Wan, his eyes never leaving him, “You’re a perfect child of God. And this part of you, this part that you  _ hate _ , it’s the  _ heart of who you are _ .” He took Obi-Wan’s hand in his own, who stood delicately, watching Qui-Gon in a mist of awe, hanging on his every word, every step he took towards him was a validation, “You’re not alone, Obi-Wan.” Pastor Jinn’s eyes fell half lidded, and he saw not just the son he never had, but the part of himself he never loved. He opened his arms, and welcomed Obi-Wan into a tight embrace, holding him close as the young boy began to sob once more, weeping into Qui-Gon’s chest, who only held him, giving him the moment. 

For the first time in a long time, Obi-Wan felt understood, he was a puzzle with missing pieces, but Qui-Gon was helping him find them. They remained in the embrace for almost twenty minutes, until Obi-Wan broke away and thanked the Pastor for his time,

“Now, are you going to tell this boy how you feel?” Qui-Gon chuckled tenderly, clasping his hands at his front, the shocked expression on Obi-Wan’s face tickling his humour, “I work in a church, Obi-Wan, I hear everything. Every  _ prayer _ .”

“He has a girlfriend,” Obi-Wan quickly retorted, crossing his arms close to his chest, “See? You didn’t know that, did you?”

“No,” Qui-Gon raised his hands as he sat down, before resting them on the desk and smiling, “But think about it, okay? Love is love.”

_ Love is love _ . 

  * • •



Obi-Wan found himself thinking less about hurting Anakin, and over time he felt the weight lifting. He felt the  _ guilt  _ lifting. 

He wasn’t okay, he had a long journey to being okay. But, he knew that he had someone he could confide in. He knew that through any danger, somebody was there for him. 

_ That was enough _ .

The school year continued as expected, Obi-Wan never quite built up the courage to talk to Anakin, let alone confess how he longed for him, how he’d helped him see who he  _ truly  _ was. But for Obi-Wan, that was okay, and soon enough senior prom arrived. The night that the students dreamt of from the day they entered the hallowed halls of the school, it was the one night they were free from the gaze of the puritanical teaching staff, and they could be themselves and not just the children of God, they could be  _ kids _ . 

Obi-Wan had been on the sidelines of the party for the majority of the night, quietly sipping his Jesus Juice and trying not to bump into anybody, the heavy thumping of drum and bass from the DJ booth bouncing through the spring-floor of the school gymnasium causing him to shake slightly. He leaned against the wall, taking a moment to observe the atmosphere, his classmates morphed into a seascape of bodies, backlit by the warm red and orange glow of the lighting rig that lined the wall behind the speaker system, a field of balloons scattering across the laminate. 

The noise hadn’t bothered him too much over the night, but when a popular song with a heavy bassline began to thump into the floor, he knew he needed some air. He dodged the crowds and pressed his weight into the push bar of the fire exit door, tripping over his own feet as he tumbled outside into the warm summer night, the door closing with a heavy clunk behind him. He glanced around, noticing a delicate plume of smoke lifting into the air behind a dumpster. 

Curious, he made his way to the source of the smoke, his chest tightening on reflex as he saw Anakin, leaning against the wall, one knee bent as he rested his foot flat on the brickwork. He was casually scrolling through his phone, a cigarette perched confidently between the fingers of his other hand as he exhaled a waft of smoke, his eyes trailing up to see Obi-Wan. 

And he froze.

They stared at each other for a moment, and Obi-Wan could feel his pulse quickening, trying to take it all in, the scent of nicotine and tobacco overwhelming his senses, his eyes starting to water, he hadn’t even noticed Anakin was talking to him.

“Are you okay?” He asked, Obi-Wan breaking free of his trance to nervously answer,

“Yes, yes, sorry,” He dabbed his eyes with the cuff of his sleeve, an awkward laugh rising from his gut to fill the space between them, “I’ve never smelled a cigarette before.”

Anakin visibly relaxed, and a coy smile grew on his lips, parting slightly so that Obi-Wan got a glimpse of his pearlescent teeth, 

“Really? I thought half the student body was on these,” He snickered, “I’m Anakin.” He extended a hand.

_ I know you _ .

Obi-Wan felt his body moving through the air towards him, and he took his hand in his, shaking it politely, the sensation of feeling Anakin’s hand close around his sending shockwaves into his shoulders, circling through his neck and down his spine. His hands were so calloused, so  _ manly _ . Long, thin fingers, a piano player’s hands as his mother might have called them, his skin was a warm olive against Obi-Wan’s alabaster flesh. 

“Obi-Wan… Kenobi. It’s nice to meet you.” He lifted his eye line to meet Anakin’s, and he smiled. A real smile. Their handshake separated, and Anakin took a final drag of his cigarette, flicking it aside to fizzle into the concrete. He pushed his hair back out of his face, unaware of how Obi-Wan feverishly watched his every move, memorising it,  _ learning  _ it. 

“Pleasure to meet you too, Obi-Wan,” Anakin puffed his chest out, his piercing blue eyes landing on Obi-Wan, adjusting the collar of his black suit, “I feel like I’ve seen you around school.”

_ I’ve seen you everywhere _ .

“It’s likely,” Obi-Wan laughed anxiously, barely keeping his nerves under control. He was  _ talking  _ to Anakin Skywalker, “You’ve probably seen me at mass or something.”   
  
“I see a lot of people at mass,” Anakin snickered, standing tall over the other man, exhaling slowly through his nostrils, “Not that it matters anyway, I don’t get to talk to anyone else… Padmé thinks it detracts from our relationship.” He looked to the side, his smile faltering momentarily.

Obi-Wan’s throat tightened, but relaxed as he spoke, 

“She doesn’t let you talk to other people?”

Anakin shook his head, sighing heavily and looking up at the night sky,

“She doesn’t stop me, she just doesn’t like it. I… I understand that she’s insecure,” He rested his head against the wall, Obi-Wan tracing the line of his neck with his eyes, watching his adam’s apple bob as he swallowed, “Aren’t we all? I just wish… Sometimes in life there’s things that are expected of you, and then there’s what you really want to do,” He lowered his head to look at Obi-Wan again, and laughed, “I don’t even know why I’m telling you this, but… I just kind of feel like I can talk to you. Weird, huh?” He rubbed the back of his neck casually, but Obi-Wan acted anything but.

He just wanted Anakin to keep talking to him. He wanted Anakin to  _ never  _ stop talking to him.

“Y...Yeah,” He said at last, withdrawing into himself at the sound of the silence, “Guess I’m just a good listener.”

Anakin planted his hand on Obi-Wan’s shoulder, and grinned, 

“That’s a good skill to have, Obi-Wan,” He winked, and Obi-Wan felt his heart melt, thanking God that this moment had finally come, “Do you think you’ll stay here long? Me and Padmé were gonna stop by at The Cantina drive-thru after prom, but she probably wouldn’t even notice if I left now and came back later… Wanna come with?”

“I’ve never been there,” Obi-Wan replied honestly, but he was unsure if he’d even survive the journey at the rate his heart was beating. Anakin chuckled, releasing his hand from Obi-Wan’s shoulder and pulling his car keys from his pocket,

“They have the  _ best  _ fries.”

  * • •



Obi-Wan shoveled a fistful of fries into his mouth, sitting in the passenger seat of Anakin’s classy convertible, the pair having been sat in the deserted parking lot of The Cantina for at least twenty minutes, listening to the radio and enjoying their food, Obi-Wan never wanted the night to end, 

“You were right about the fries,” He swallowed the food quickly, tossing the empty packing into the brown paper bag it had been served in, and he set the bag in the footwell, “Thank you for inviting me.”

“It’s no problem,” Anakin stared ahead into the shrubbery that adorned the edge of the parking lot, the town’s attempt at ‘greenifying’ the ever growing concrete jungle that was being developed on that side of the town, the county council called it eco-friendly, Anakin called it gentrification, “Thanks for coming with me. Not many people would jump in a car with someone they’ve just met,” He snickered. Obi-Wan felt a heat rise in his face, and he looked away, laughing nervously.

_ Yeah, just met. _

“Can I ask you something?” Anakin shifted in his seat, turning his body towards Obi-Wan, who looked back at him suddenly, a familiar feeling of butterflies floating in his gut,

“Uh… Sure.” He attempted to be as casual as possible, but even then he knew his hands were trembling in his lap.

Anakin cleared his throat, and pursed his lips. He was thinking. How did he stay so damn  _ beautiful  _ even when he was thinking? 

“Say, hypothetically, you’ve always seen yourself a certain way. You know that’s who you are, because that’s what everyone  _ says  _ you are, but…” He adjusted again, sitting back in the driver’s seat, staring out into the night once more, “There’s something inside you. There’s something there, that’s  _ begging  _ to be let out.”

Obi-Wan gazed upon Anakin’s brooding form, so enticed by his question he hadn’t noticed himself drifting forward, edging closer to the other man. He hadn’t even noticed that he hadn’t replied, he was just veering out of his seat slightly.

“I know it sounds crazy, but,” Anakin sighed, turning his head toward Obi-Wan and smiling, “I don’t think I’m who other people say I am.” 

Obi-Wan caught himself as he looked into Anakin’s eyes, and sat back in his seat, 

“I don’t know what other people say, but,” He trailed off, he knew he was lying, he knew exactly what people said about Anakin, how he was the Prodigal Student, he was destined for great things in the church. He blinked, snapping himself back into reality, struggling not to get lost in the azure bliss, “You seem like a good guy, Anakin.”

A silence fell in the car, but it wasn’t like your ordinary silence. It was a silence that was so comfortable, it was like two friends who had surpassed the need for verbal communication. 

And Anakin smiled, meeting Obi-Wan’s gaze, the two locking eyes at last,

“You don’t have to say what you think I want to hear,” He spoke calmly, soothingly, “You don’t know me, Obi-Wan.”   
  
“But I’d like to,” The words fell out of Obi-Wan’s mouth so quickly he couldn’t catch them, but the look on Anakin’s was something he wished he could hold in his eyes forever, it was a look of joy, a look of  _ validation _ . From Anakin’s perspective, he’d just been told by a complete stranger that he was worth getting to know.

“Do you… No, sorry, I’m getting ahead of myself,” Anakin laughed, but Obi-Wan quickly placed his hand on his forearm, speaking softly as he looked up at him,

  
“You’re not.”

He couldn’t stop himself. He had been starved of human contact for so long, people at school avoided him, the only person he really spoke to was Pastor Jinn and now he was sat, in a car, alone, with the one person who had started this whole thing. 

Anakin didn’t know it, chances are he would  _ never  _ know it, but he had changed Obi-Wan’s life. He’d been at the centre of an internal whirlwind, the eye of Obi-Wan’s emotional storm for so long, that now they were finally connecting; Obi-Wan was elated.

Equally, Obi-Wan would never know how much his attention meant to Anakin that night. Anakin had never been  _ listened to  _ like Obi-Wan listened to him, and somehow, he’d never felt so understood.

“Do you want to come over to my place?” Anakin asked finally, having not moved Obi-Wan’s hand from his arm, “My parents won’t be home, I’ve got beer,” He rambled suddenly, “It’s okay if you don’t want to, I just-”   
  
“I’d love to,” Obi-Wan’s voice was barely but a whisper, and Anakin’s breath hitched. 

The comfortable silence fell between them once more.

Everything and nothing made sense in that moment, but neither one of them protested. Obi-Wan’s wildest dreams were coming true, and Anakin was allowing the deepest part of his soul to blossom. What happened outside of this moment didn’t matter,  _ God  _ didn’t matter. 

They arrived at Anakin’s house without worry, and Anakin had been completely right - nobody had called or even texted to see where he was. They were all so absorbed in their own life story, it didn’t matter where Anakin was.

Soon enough, the beer was flowing and the music was blaring, Obi-Wan surprised himself with how much he cut loose that night, although admittedly the beer absolutely had an effect on him, he danced around Anakin’s living room without a care in the world, so much so that when Anakin returned from the kitchen to see Obi-Wan a little  _ too  _ into a trap beat, he couldn’t help but smile, and join in.

They danced, and they laughed, until they collapsed onto the sofa in exhaustion, staring up at the ceiling as their chests were heaving, Anakin’s head rolled to the side and even in his slightly drunken state, he could see the joy exuding from Obi-Wan’s soul,

“Thanks for tonight, Obi-Wan,” His words were somewhat slurred, but still comprehensible, “I haven’t had fun like this in a while.”

“Don’t,” Obi-Wan stopped to hold in an unapologetic burp, “Don’t mention it, this has been way better than prom ever could have been.” He grinned as his head lulled to the side, his forehead grazing against Anakin’s as they looked at each other.

Their smiles softened as the moment intensified, the haze of booze and comradery lifting like a thick fog to reveal a path, a path that Obi-Wan had dreamt of walking, and that Anakin had never thought he’d see.

They inched closer, and in an instant their lips met, closely followed by their bodies. Anakin pulled Obi-Wan close very suddenly, as a fire he’d long since forgotten had ignited in the very core of his being, a lost flame that now burned brighter than ever in the heat of the moment. Obi-Wan was flushed, but he didn’t resist, he kissed Anakin with all the gravity he’d fantasised about for months, falling into him and holding on for dear life. He didn’t care that it had taken a handful of lies and a keg of beer to get him there, he knew that God was smiling down on him and his little gay heart sang.

They became a tangled mess of lips and limbs on the sofa, the music playing at a deafening volume, but they didn’t care. In a strangely beautiful way, they’d found something they had both been missing.

Anakin pulled Obi-Wan on top of him, holding him with one hand on his shoulder and one hand sliding down to hold his hips, his thumb sliding under the fabric of his pants and grazing the previously untouched milky flesh beneath. Obi-Wan couldn’t stop kissing him, but his hips jerked at Anakin’s touch, sliding over his crotch dangerously, the fire burning deeper into his body, boiling at his groin. 

Jackets were thrown aside, followed by ties and then shirts. Obi-Wan remained on top of Anakin, their bare torsos pressed against each other as they eagerly explored each other’s bodies, Anakin pushing down on Obi-Wan’s pants, the latter of the pair pushing his ass into Anakin’s hands, a soft moan escaping through the gap between their mouths. Anakin smirked at the sound, and gripped harder, feeling the heat rise in his crotch, his cock growing steadily harder, threatening to bust the seams of his own pants.

They broke their passionate kissing for mere moments, just long enough to kick off their pants and toss them in the pile of discarded clothing, both of them now just in their underwear as Anakin grabbed Obi-Wan by the waist, thrusting him onto the sofa and boxing him in with a hand either side of his head. He positioned himself strategically so that he could push the throbbing bulge in his underwear against Obi-Wan’s ass, who exhaled shakily as he looked up at Anakin, his perfectly porcelain cheeks a hot shade of red, 

“Anakin, I-”

“I’ll be gentle,” The taller man whispered, a hand sliding tenderly down Obi-Wan’s torso, his thumb lovingly tracing a fold on his lover’s stomach, reaching his creamy thighs to teasingly push under the hem of his underwear, “I never thought I’d see something so beautiful.”

Obi-Wan’s hips rolled at the sensation of Anakin’s fingertips inching closer to his cock, he had never been touched by someone else, to think that he’d been so afraid of allowing himself to enjoy the pleasures of the flesh, for fear of upsetting ‘the Lord almighty’, but he knew in his heart of hearts that God had far more important things to worry about.

No, he was about to lose his virginity, he was about to make love for the first time. He was sweating. He felt so hot, his entire body was like a radiator. He looked up at Anakin, taking a moment to memorise every line, every contour, every detail of his body. 

Some people would note Anakin’s imperfections on his body, but Obi-Wan saw them as things to remember him by. They weren’t flaws, they were beautiful.

_ He was so beautiful _ . 

Obi-Wan felt his underwear sliding off his skin, and delicate kisses were dotted down his inner thigh, and he watched Anakin’s lips slowly disappear between his legs. The sudden heat of hot breath against his hole made his spine curve, his hands closing into tight fists on the fabric of the sofa cushions, and a moan of pure bliss was ripped from his throat, a wet sensation causing him to shiver. 

Anakin’s tongue danced around Obi-Wan’s tight, pink hole, teasing it, his fingers digging into the tender flesh to pull him open, allowing himself better access to slick up his entrance. Obi-Wan was squirming in delight, begging Anakin for more, pushing himself onto his mouth. 

  
Anakin hooked his arms suddenly around Obi-Wan’s hips, and in a moment’s notice, Anakin was lay on his back, his cock stood tall and erect, as Obi-Wan came to sit on his face, his knees locked either side of his head, throwing his head back to cry out with pleasure as his hole was mercilessly lashed with Anakin’s tongue. His hand slid down his body, grabbing his cock to jack himself off, panting as the pleasure surged through his body. Nothing in life had ever felt this good, and part of him honestly believed nothing would ever compare. Anakin feasted on Obi-Wan’s hole, his cock twitching as precum leaked gratuitously down the length of his shaft. 

Both of them would cum soon if they weren’t careful, so they mutually decided to change positions, Obi-Wan lifting himself off to lower to his knees as Anakin rose to his feet, resting one foot on the sofa and one on the floor, his head fell back as Obi-Wan took him into his mouth, his inexperience proving valuable as his tongue slicked against the underside of his cock, his hands clenched at his sides. He rocked his hips back and forth, until he eased his way fully into Obi-Wan’s mouth, his balls pushed against the delicate redhead’s chin. Obi-Wan looked up at Anakin, who looked back down at him, biting his bottom lip hard as those big, blue eyes looked into his soul. He cupped Obi-Wan’s jaw with one hand, and began to thrust in and out of his lips, watching as his cock disappeared into his mouth.

“You’re so…” He grunted, his stomach tightening, “...Fucking sexy, Obi-Wan.” He had a shortness of breath, unable to resist his lover, who took his cock down his throat so easily. His hand slid up to the top of Obi-Wan’s head, and he fought the urge to close his hand into a fist and really go to town, he had to remind himself that Obi-Wan was a virgin. He had to be gentle. 

Obi-Wan’s lips popped as Anakin’s cock slid free, and he was pulled to his feet, into a powerful kiss, lips locked as their throbbing erections brushed against each other. They couldn’t control their wanton desires, and Anakin sat down on the sofa, his long, muscular legs spread wide apart, and he guided Obi-Wan to sit in his lap, knees positioned carefully either side of his crotch. 

“Slowly, baby,” Anakin’s voice was hushed, sensually sliding his hands up to Obi-Wan’s waist, and he lowered him down, the smaller man wincing as he felt himself stretching, “Careful, Obi-Wan,” He whispered, stopping momentarily, “Deep breaths.”

After a session of stop-start, Obi-Wan’s ass met Anakin’s groin, and he was fully sheathed inside. Obi-Wan fell forward, resting his face in the nape of Anakin’s neck as he panted heavily,

“Take me, Anakin,  _ please _ .”

Anakin began to lift and lower Obi-Wan onto his cock, groaning huskily as his cock was stimulated, the sensation of Obi-Wan’s hot and heavy breathing against his neck only escalating his pleasure as he began to meet his ass halfway with slow thrusts, lifting his hips into the motion, gasping as his body trembled. 

The pace was slowly increased, and Obi-Wan began to bounce himself, allowing Anakin’s hands to fall helplessly at his sides, his head falling back as he thrusted hard up into Obi-Wan, who bounced eagerly on his cock, the clapping of skin against skin riding up over the blasting music, both of them subconsciously matching the beat of the song, the tightness of Obi-Wan’s hole sending Anakin  _ wild _ . 

“You’re gonna make me cum, Obi-Wan,” Anakin groaned, his hands rising to pull at his lover’s ass, Obi-Wan managing a breathless laugh as he began to ride harder,  _ faster _ , his cock slapping against Anakin’s abdomen,    
  
“The feeling is mutual,” He panted, his moans becoming steadily louder. Anakin bit his lip again, beginning to growl as he thrust harder into him, meeting his bounce in perfect sync, grasping tightly at his ass. 

Obi-Wan looked down into Anakin’s eyes, his mouth agape, his cock pulsing as he cried out,

“I’m cumming, Anakin,” His hips buckled, causing Anakin to lurch, and thick ropes of cum were laced across Anakin’s abdomen, dripping into the contours of his muscular torso. Anakin was barely able to catch his breath as Obi-Wan panted heavily, leaning down to rest his forehead against his, “Cum inside me, please, I need it,” He begged, to which Anakin was more than happy to comply. 

With a final, deep thrust, Anakin unloaded himself into Obi-Wan, yelling out into the space around them as he filled him with his cum, his fingernails digging deep into Obi-Wan’s porcelain flesh, a thin red ribbon of blood running down his side. 

And in that moment, as the climax faded, Obi-Wan didn’t feel alone.

Anakin didn’t feel alone.

They delicately kissed, and everything made sense.

_ He couldn’t really tell Qui-Gon about this. _

  
  



End file.
